


After You

by CallMeHopeless (IAmNotBread)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Ben is sad, F/M, Making Out, Modern Era, Pain, Party, Pls Don't Cry My Son, a good time, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 12:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotBread/pseuds/CallMeHopeless
Summary: Poe Dameron is a sexy pilot, and Ben is good friends with the reader. But when Poe captures the reader’s attention at a party, Ben excuses himself. When the reader finds him, she and Ben have a huge argument. But will their feelings be resolved?





	After You

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from my Tumblr at the request of some humans! Enjoy yo!

(y/n) sipped at her drink, the bitter taste making her wrinkle her nose and stifle a gag.

Ugh. Vodka martini.  
Her sober mind had warned her that overuse of the phrase “I’ll have what he’s having” would end up with her either in a gutter or drinking what tasted like off petrol. However, parties were never her area of expertise, and every sip seemed to leave her feeling slightly less exposed than before.

“Long time, no see”.  
Poe Dameron was, in no uncertain terms, the life and soul of every party. Dark curls and rugged features; a set brow and a lean physique. A pilot, if she remembered correctly. Good money flying commercial airlines, these days. It explained the get up, which made him look like some hot-shot billionaire straight out of Prague.  
“Poe” she smiled, leaning in to plant a small peck on his cheek. Common courtesy; or at least she thought it was. Movies set the standard for about 90% of her party discourse, so this all could’ve been a social faux pas for all she knew.

Poe put a hand on her shoulder, thumb brushing at her bicep.  
“Look at you; you’re dazzling” he grinned, admiring her. Her ears grew hot, face flushing as she soaked in the attention. Her outfit had been carefully picked out; Rey had accompanied her to find the right silver earrings, much to her chagrin.

(y/n) sipped at her drink, smiling subtly.  
_God. Was the bartender trying to kill her?_  
“And you” she teased “seem to be living the high life. Literally”.  
“If one more person makes a pilot joke…”  
“They’ll go flying?”  
Poe spat his champagne unceremoniously, his laughter ringing through the crowd. Familiar and calming.

Several people turned, smiles and looks as they took in the scene. As (y/n) raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a chuckle, her eyes darted to a familiar face.  
Ben was distinguishable anywhere; dark tresses and pale skin, positively towering over every guest around. He seemed to be enjoying one of Finn’s more exciting stories, eyes down. Her only hint of something bothering him was a turn at the corner of his mouth; so subtle that anyone else might not have noticed.  
But of course she’d noticed. She knew Ben Solo like the back of her hand.

“If you weren’t so ravishing, I’d dump this crappy champagne on your head” Poe winked, folding his arms and setting his empty champagne flute onto the table. The way he leaned was clearly an invitation; and his aftershave smelled expensive as sin.

“I can give you a few more chances before the night is through” (y/n) teased, giving him a nudge with her hip. His eyes followed the move of her shoulders, and she felt all giddy.

 _Much more refreshing than the drink,_  she thought.

* * *

“-And that was when the owners showed up, and we knew we’d fucked up. If Rey hadn’t been so good at climbing fences, those hillbillies might have shot us”.  
Ben took another sip of champagne, his throat dry as Finn continued on from one story to the next. Ben had learned how to feign interest - a lesson he learned from his father, Leia had always claimed.

And  _God._ There was that sound again. Her laughter made him grit his teeth and down the whole glass, forcing a smile that he imagined made him looked deranged.   
This was a nightmare. Who does this kind of crazy shit?  
Unspoken mutual attraction. What the fuck was that? Who decided that should be a thing that existed in his life?

He couldn’t just have a  _normal_ relationship where you meet some gorgeous girl in a coffee shop or at the supermarket in the shampoo aisle. No, not Ben Solo. He had to end up falling in love with his closest friend.  
And they were both cowards. Fucking cowards.

The one time they’d gotten drunk enough that she’d brought it up, a few months ago? She had someone else in the crosshairs. And that had been the story for years, and it was tragic.

And Poe Dameron was smart, and funny, and ridiculously rich. He was the sort of guy Ben despised; “oh, let’s go to London on my fancy private jet”. He was the sort of asshole that drank organic coffee and went to the gym twice a week and ate flavorless yogurt.  
Ben hated him, and he hated his stupid fucking laugh.

“Fresh air” Ben mumbled to Finn and the small group around him. Finn made a joke about ‘too many champagnes’ as Ben pushed through the crowd, outside into the quiet street. One of the lamps above him buzzed; light flickering dimly as it illuminated the pavement where a slew of cars were precariously parked.

He ran his hands through his hair, biting back waves of jealousy and anger.  
_Fuck._

* * *

“Have you seen Ben?” (y/n) put a hand on Finn’s shoulder, cheeks warm from all the attention she’d been getting.  
“Yeah, he headed out back. Too bad, we’re about to get the karaoke going!”

Oh god. Escape. Escape.  
“It’s now official, then: worst party ever” she jested, giving Finn a slight nudge on the shoulder as she winked and headed through the double doors at the back of the bar.

The night air was welcome; bringing with it muffled sounds from the party and sirens somewhere far off. She breathed deep, the smell of night air and grass filling her nostrils and helping the spinning in her head.

“Ben?” she called out, re-adjusting the strap on her shoe. Stupid, fiddly thing.  
She made out his outline, leaning against a dim street lamp across the way. He raised a hand, curls licked by the breeze. In his suit and slightly disheveled tie, he was devastatingly handsome.

“Out here, alone?” (y/n) asked, shoes clicking as she unsteadily made her way across the road.  
“Better here than in there. Snake pit.”  
Ben licked his lips, eyes heavy.  
“Well, Finn’s stories are pretty fucking dreadful”.  
“Right, yeah” Ben muttered, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. Bits of gravel kicked up, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

(y/n) looked over her shoulder at the closed door, then back to Ben’s face. His eyes seemed distant; freckles drawing shadows on his skin.  
“You…want another drink?”  
“No. No, I think I’d rather choke on my own vomit”.

(y/n) stared.  
“What the fuck, Ben? What, you’re angry because you hate everyone? Is that it?”  
Ben bent his head down to her, brows raised.  
“Oh, so there we go! You don’t know a fucking thing about me, alright? What, you think that just because I…because I want to go and get some god damned fresh air, that I’m some sort of self-righteous asshole?” 

Jesus Christ. He was  _definitely_  a self-righteous asshole. His mother used to say he had a habit of shooting himself in the foot.  
Understatement.

“Oh my God, Ben. You’re unbelievable. Are you trying to make me hate you?”  
“Yes! Yes I fucking am”.  
Ben ran both his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth. He looked physically pained; and he brought his fists to his face, yelling into them with a stamp of his feet.   
He cursed in a string for a few seconds, while (y/n) just stood there. Saying nothing. Doing nothing. Eyes wide, watching this bizarre ritual with confusion and concern.  
“I wish. I wish you hated me. Oh my fucking God. I wish we hated eachother and I couldn’t stand to be in the same fucking room as you. I’d love that. That would make my life SO MUCH EASIER!” he cried out, the last few words belted out as he looked up to the smoggy sky.

(y/n) examined his face with impossible confusion; examined the ways the dim light played at his features. His breathing was ragged as he tried to calm himself, and she saw his jaw tighten and loosen with every breath.

“Why?” she asked, her voice strong and clear.  
Ben shook his head, eyes dropping to the floor as curls fell across his face.  
“You don’t know?”

Of course she knew. She knew what he thought before he thought it; knew him so well he may as well be another part of her. And she felt it too. That coursing. Desperate. But they buried it, because  _fuck_. They were volatile elements. Stability was terrifying. If neither of them confronted it, it would also always be there. Unspoken. Dependable. Fire in the winter, breeze in the summer.

“Say it”, she muttered.  
“No”.  
“Why not? If it’s this big burden to you,  _just say it_ ”.  
Ben laughed coldly, gritting his teeth.  
“No, no. Don’t put this on me. We both know my self-preservation instinct is too fucking high for this bullshit”.

(y/n) felt the bite of the breeze on her face; slightly colder now than she’d thought it was. Inside, she heard the sound of singing, glasses clinking and laughter. Distant and musical.

“What about me? What, you don’t think I’m afraid?” she asked, strands of hair coiling around her mouth. She reached up to brush them out of her face, eyes dangerously close to stinging.  
Ben blew air out of his nostrils, brows raised.  
“What, as afraid as you were talking to shitty Poe shitty pilot fucking ass dickhead Dameron? You can’t say shit to me but you’re fine chatting away to him about his…stupid yogurt obsession?”

“Just admit it! Just admit you’re jealous! Just say it!”  
“FUCK!” Ben yelled into his fists, pressing them tightly against his eyes “YES! FUCK! I’m jealous! I’m unbelievably fucking jealous of him. Oh my god, every second he flirts with you I feel like I’m drinking acid. You’re beautiful and funny and smart and you make excellent omelettes and FUCK!”  
“Ben…”  
“-And I’ve been in love with you my whole shitty, miserable life. Its been the worst. I hate it. Oh my god. I think about you all the time, and literally every time I’ve ever fucked another human being I’ve had your face burned onto my eyes like some god damned stupid incredible gorgeous birthmark on my eyelids. Holy shit”.

Ben’s breathing was ragged, eyes wide as he took her in with intensity.  
She literally couldn’t speak. Her brain just…wasn’t connected. She felt her mouth opening and closing, but there were…no words?  
Words!  _Where were the words!?  
_

He shook his head, turning on heel to slam his hand against the lamp post. It made a painful sounding thunk as he began to stride away, dark curls licking at the collar of his suit.  
If her lips wouldn’t move, her legs would just have to.

She sprinted. Sprinted as fast as she could in those crappy shoes, silver hoops clinking as she huffed like the slightly drunk and unfit woman she was. When she reached him, she grabbed his wrist, locking it firmly in her hands. He turned to look at her, the dark circles under his eyes looking dangerously close to giving way to tears, full lips trembling with emotion.

“You…” she gasped, regaining composure “…you are the most arrogant and stubborn prick I’ve ever met. You’re rude, you’re antisocial, you act like you hate people just because you’re a train wreck. You never act like anything hurts you. And I can’t stand those things. They drive me up the fucking wall”.

Ben bit at his lip, sighing heavily as he raised his brow ready to retort. But she raised an index finger to his pink lips, stunning him into silence for the first time in the history of anything.

“But I love you. Oh my god, do I love you. I love-”

But she was cut off as he crushed her to him, lips pushed against hers with such urgency that she almost spun over onto the tarmac. Her stomach flipped as he moved his hand to rest on her cheekbone, thumb following the curve that drew it to her nose. He moaned, and she moved her hands into his hair, tangling them in the soft locks at the nape of his neck.

Her tongue explored his mouth, and fuck. He tasted  _good_. Crappy champagne and strawberries, small hints of aftershave dancing in her mouth. His free hand reached down to the place where her dress met her thigh, rising upward slowly in a way that made her whole body shake…

“Cab. Uber. My place” (y/n) gasped, pulling back slightly so that their noses were touching, breaths mingling in the night air “whatever, fuck. Wherever. Let’s just get out of here”.  
Ben nodded, faint smile rising as his eyes traced hers.  
“After you”.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written nearly enough crazy sexy arguing. And then tonight a clip from “Girls” came up on my Tumblr and FUCK. FUCK. Adam Driver, stop! You’re ruining my life, you sexy asshole. Anyway, tldr: here’s some Ben being a passionate angry dickhead. Thanks for listening.


End file.
